So I spent a good chunk of tonight pawing through various web-based hoards of calls, contests, and markets.
I knew Greenboathouse Books, publishers of bee-oo-tiful limited-edition handmade chapbooks, wouldn't be accepting new submissions until June, but I thought maybe they'd have their Variant project going again...
No such luck, but this note made me chortle...and if it's good enough to make me laugh out loud, it's good enough for you, the faithful and yet faceless readers of this blog (all six of you):
Second important warning:There used to be a nice note here warning authors of rhymed, centre-justified 'poetry' to steer clear, but it didn't seem to be doing any good, so let's take these gloves off, shall we?
If you've never published but are convinced you have "a unique voice," if you "love poetry" but don't read (contemporary Canadian) poetry, if your manuscript has anything to do with gods or goddesses of any kind, or any interest in the contemporary urban existential dilemma, or maybe it's a lovely exploration of your political perspective on the environment, or champions the simple honesty of the unemployed logger, if it has even a hint of empty, clichéd metaphors or nonsense about poetry being "a pursuit of truth," or if you're thinking of including a photograph of your children or pets — if your manuscript has even the slightest whiff of any of these odours, please don't send it to us.
Oh, and no "The This of That" titles, please, they're getting tired (The Subtlety of Butterflies, The Burden of Loneliness, The Groan of Precious Titles).
Some will read this rant and find it insulting, possibly offensive, and that will simply mean it's doing its job, but more likely it still won't be harsh enough.